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by bbuckyy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coming Out, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Transphobia, One Shot, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Project Rebirth, Stucky - Freeform, Trans Character, Trans Steve Rogers, mlm author, trans author, trans!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 04:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbuckyy/pseuds/bbuckyy
Summary: “This is… me. I was always s’posed to be this, don’t you see? The serum was supposed to make more of what was already there. I’ve been a man for as long as I can remember, only now everyone else can see it too. I never thought I’d be able to look in the mirror and be happy with what I saw.” He turned back toward the mirror. “I’ve had dreams where I would wake up and be a real man, go about my business ‘n have everyone call me ‘sir’. And now I’m not dreaming. I’m looking at myself and seeing me.”Steve's transition documented by some major and a few minor moments in his life. Kinda sappy, kinda uplifting, kinda just me not going to sleep.





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**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this in two hours when i should've been sleeping but honestly??? i'm impressed with myself lmao. i tried my best to describe how steve views his transness and his sexuality, just in relation to my experiences being trans and mlm. also it's a teensy weensy bit sexual but not really

Bucky had known that Steve was Steve since the tenth grade. Steve, Sadie then, had pulled Bucky into a back alley on their way back from school.

“Bucky, I gotta tell you something.” His voice was hushed and urgent and shaky and not at all hiding the lump in his throat.

“Oh God, Sadie, is it another diagnosis? Is this one fatal??” Bucky started to sweat, genuinely expecting to hear his best friend’s expiration date.

“No, God no, Buck. Chrissakes.” He forced out a chuckle. “Listen. You- you gotta stop calling me Sadie. It ain’t right. I ain’t Sadie.”

Bucky furrowed his brow. “What’re you trying to say, Sa-” he stopped himself and paused, “...friend?”

Steve took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Jesus. Look, the- the dresses, the makeup, this goddamn hair,” he motioned to the blonde ringlets hanging from his head, “they ain’t me. I ain’t a dame, Buck. Every sick, crippled bone in my body is tellin’ me that livin’ as a girl, or woman, or whatever, is wrong. I’m s’posed to be like you. I’m s’posed to be a man.” Steve was clenching his fists by his sides, avoiding eye contact with his best friend. The way he was shaking with fear or anger or whatever it was made his light blue dress flutter around his knees.

“Fuck’s sake.” Bucky turned away for a moment, running one hand through his hair, resting the other on his hip. “Um, uh…”

“Steve.” He had never said it out loud before, but it felt warm and soft on his lips.

“Steve.” Bucky sighed before continuing. “Okay, um, if you’re not a dame, then I guess you’re not a dame.” Steve finally brought his his head up to look into Bucky’s deadly blue eyes, brow rumpled above in sympathy. “You’re still my best friend Sa- no, Steve.”

Steve relaxed his fists and looked down at his feet, then up at the grey Brooklyn sky, exhaling tightly through his mouth. When he looked back at Bucky his eyes were very obviously watering. “Thank you.” His voice cracked. Bucky flung one arm above Steve’s left shoulder, and wrapped the other below his right armpit, holding him tighter than he’d ever been held before.

 

 

In the five years since Steve’s confession, he’d cut his hair, moved in with Bucky on the other side of Brooklyn, and started wearing his hand-me-downs. Shirts and trousers and shoes from at least ten years ago that only barely fit Steve’s slender and unfortunately feminine frame. Steve loved wearing Bucky’s old clothes, it was like finally going home after a lifetime of not knowing what or where home was, but they showed him off in all the wrong places. The shirt hung off his shoulders and the sleeves ended far beyond his wrists, the pants made a travesty of his already wide hips and pooled around the shoes that he had to stuff with newspapers. They couldn’t afford a tailor.

Thankfully, the economy was still bad enough that it wasn’t uncommon for two young men to board together. Their landlady did think it rather odd how often one of them needed a new mattress, or one would push the other into their flat as fast as possible, shutting the door behind them not quite fast enough to cut off their giddy laughter, but she shrugged it off as youthful rambunctiousness, and hardly gave it another thought.  
Blissfully revelling in their proprietress’ ignorance, the two would smother each other in kisses, tender and violent and urgent all at once, hiding themselves and their secrets from the world in their tiny suite, hushing each other with poignant caresses and thirsty embraces, vowing never, ever to let each other go.

 

 

And then James Barnes was drafted. Dragged by the collar into a war other men started, forced to leave warmth and comfort and home in his past. Bucky and Steve spent their last night together wrapped in each other. No kissing, no sex, just holding each other. Each of them cherishing the warmth the other provided, knowing that once it was gone, they’d be colder than ever, but clinging onto the last few moments of heat and love before they had an ocean planted between them.

 

 

Steve wasn’t drafted. He enlisted. Voluntarily, of his own free will. By Abraham Erskine. His thick syrupy accent had intrigued Steve since the moment he stepped into the examination room, ready for his sixth rejection. But the man behind those round glasses enthralled him with his offer of a chance, however miniscule, in helping the American cause. As exciting as the whole ordeal was, Steve had to be Sadie again. Erskine had found his original birth certificate and medical records and insisted that if this agreement were to proceed, Sadie would leave all pretenses of masculinity behind. He had to be her again.

 

 

His bones were on fire. White light was bleeding in through his tightly closed eyelids, burning his eyes while he screamed. He was being pulled and compressed and torn open and forced shut all within an instant. He heard Erskine’s muffled orders to abort the experiment.

“ _No!_ ” The word burst through him like a cannonball, the pain and heat bubbling through his body shot it out through his mouth with force and volume he’d never felt himself conjure. “I can do this!” He didn’t entirely believe himself, but he had to prove that Erskine’s trust was not misplaced. He had been told that this procedure would make him more. More good, or more bad, or more whatever was inside him. For Steve that could mean more sick. More small. More terrified. He certainly felt terrified as his body was squeezed like an orange and then pulled taught like fresh saltwater taffy.

Through the din of his agony rattling about his brain, he heard the machine whirr as it powered down. The pain stopped and Steve took a deep breath. He took a deep breath. All the way through his lungs, smoothly through his windpipe, and flowing to every inch of his sore body. The steam that had accumulated within the pod floated to the ground as the pod’s doors opened. He relished in the cool air now surrounding him. The only thing that prompted him to open his eyes was the thunderous gasp that seemed to come from every person in the facility.

“I did it.” He forced the words through his throat, but it wasn’t his voice. It rumbled in his chest and the deep timbre settled beneath him, giving him shivers.

Everyone hesitated to even breathe. Dr. Erskine managed to speak: “You did it.” Peggy approached him, and he couldn’t read her face, just acknowledged her furrowed brow and her mouth hanging agape. She looked him up and down. “How do you feel?” Her voice was weak and contemplative.

“Taller.” There was that voice again, resonating from deep within him and pouring out of his mouth like mist, vibrating in his throat. He finally looked down. He was….. him. His body rolled and rippled below him, like a photograph of a great wave, frozen in time, three dimensional and elevated. His chest was square, shoulders broad and intimidating, even to him, and his abdomen narrowed down to thin hips. He noticed a new presence between his legs and his stomach dropped. He looked at his hands, large and strong, reaching up to touch his face, finding a sharp jawline above a pronounced Adam’s apple.

He didn’t get a chance to examine himself more. There was an explosion, and then Erskine’s body, and then the taxi, and the boy in the water, and _hail HYDRA._

 

 

He sat in the examination room after the nurse had left with his blood samples. They had given him the luxury of a full-length mirror leaning against the wall, and allowed him to examine himself in peace. Indulging in his own vanity, Steve admitted to himself that he resembled one of those ancient sculptures of Greek gods. Muscular and expansive. He closed his eyes and felt himself occupy this body. He took his shirt off and ran his hands over all the curves and canyons of his new body. Where his breasts previously fell were now square and solid pectorals, residing above distinct abs. He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling pressure against his sides as muscle collided with muscle. He squeezed his vast shoulders and slid his hands down to his narrow hips, which lead into thick, sturdy thighs. In between those thighs was something he had never even dreamed of, never allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy of his very own masculinity. Real, tangible, _large_ masculinity.

He was overwhelmed. Eyes still shut, tears drifted down his angular, yet still familiar, face. He allowed himself a deep whimper as his arms wrapped themselves around his biceps once again, taking deep breaths and enjoying the oxygen now completely filling his lungs.

He hadn’t noticed Peggy walk in until she put his hand on his wide back, tender, yet almost fearful. “Sadie….” her voice was thick and wet. “Sadie, I’m so sorry. If I had known this would happen I never would have let you do this.” She stifled a sob as Steve opened his eyes, still just as blue as the day he confided in Bucky, and turned to face her. “I- I need you to know that you’re still the same beautiful woman in my eyes, Sadie. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Now it was her turn to hug herself as tears streamed down her delicate face, now wrinkled into the paragon of sorrow. Steve didn’t know how to tell her.

“No.” His voice rumbled through him like a car engine.

“Wh-what?”

“No. Don’t be sorry. I’m not. Sorry. Listen.” He wet his lips and his eyes darted every which way. “This is… me. I was always s’posed to be this, don’t you see? The serum was supposed to make more of what was already there. I’ve been a man for as long as I can remember, only now everyone else can see it too. I never thought I’d be able to look in the mirror and be happy with what I saw.” He turned back toward the mirror. “I’ve had dreams where I would wake up and be a real man, go about my business ‘n have everyone call me ‘sir’. And now I’m not dreaming. I’m looking at myself and seeing me.” He knew Peggy didn’t understand. Her mouth was hanging open, eyebrows curling up toward her forehead, hand resting on her heart. “I’m sorry.” Steve got up and headed out the door into the crowded hallway.

“Sadie, wait-” Steve stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around to face her.

“I never thought I’d be able to tell anyone this.” He chuckled and clicked his tongue. “My name…. is Steve. Steven Grant Rogers. I have _never_ been Sadie.”

“S- Steve…” she was shaking. “What are you doing to do?”

He walked toward her and covered her in a strong embrace, his head resting on someone else’s for once. “I am going to live, and be happy, and change my name, and be in love with myself. I am going to be more myself than I have ever been before.”

 

 

Steve sat at the piano in the church they had requisitioned for barracks. He hadn’t played since his mother died. He laid his long fingers on the keys and took a breath before he began singing. His fingers could finally reach all the keys in the chords he played.

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when. But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…” He was probably singing a whole octave below where he used to, his new baritone range sinking onto the marble floors of the church and evaporating into the arched ceiling above. He stopped and let it echo. He hoped they would meet again. And they would.

 

 

Steve saw Bucky lying on a metal table in the middle of a damp, empty room.

“Barnes… Sargeant…. 32557….. Barnes…” He had obviously been drugged.

“Bucky!” As Steve ran toward his friend, his heart rose to his throat and his stomach dropped to the floor. Bucky would finally be able to see his Stevie the way he had always wanted to see himself. But what if he was unrecognizable? What if Bucky didn’t like all the muscles and the strength? What if he only called Steve Steve throughout their affair because he wanted to maintain access to his feminine body, and now that he didn’t have that anymore, he would be disgusted? Bucky hardly responded until Steve reached him.

“Bucky, oh my God.” Steve held Bucky’s face in his hands while he stared into Steve’s new face, clearly having trouble comprehending the situation. “It’s me, it’s Steve.” His fear solidified into a sturdy lump in his throat.

Bucky took a moment. “Steve?” Steve sighed like he had never sighed before. He was recognizable.

“I thought you were dead.” Steve helped his friend to his feet.

Whatever drugs they had given Bucky were evidently very strong, as Bucky only replied with “I thought you were smaller. What happened to you?”

“I joined the Army.”

“Is it permanent?”

Steve felt a grin spread across his face. “So far.”

 

 

Captain America had only just gotten out of the shower when Bucky came into his tent. Steve was wearing a t-shirt and camo pants, and his hair was dripping wet. Once again, a tidal wave of anxiety rose in his chest.

“Hey.” Steve set down his towel and slowly approached his friend.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Disoriented I guess. But I feel like I should ask you how you’re feeling.”

“Steve chuckled and leaned his back against a post, crossing his hands in front of him. “It’s been… it’s been a lot to get used to.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“That day, sophomore year, when you told me that every bone in your body was telling you you were s’posed to be a man. Is this what you meant? Is this who you’re supposed to be?”

Steve hesitated. That was a tough question. “I- I think so. I never really had a clear image of what I thought I should’ve looked like. It was always just me as I was, but with no tits and a better jaw.” Bucky smiled. “When I stepped outta the pod I was in when this all happened, I didn’t really even notice it at first. I just thought I was taller. I really only had a moment or two to take a look at myself before the explosion. Afterwards though, I had some time alone with a mirror and slowly I managed to fit into this body. I recognized that my reflection actually was my reflection, not just a moving picture. To be honest, it still surprises me when I wake up. I always expect to open my eyes and be 5’4” and skinny again. But I’m always so happy when I see this. It’s like I’m finally me, after all these years.”

Bucky paused and stepped closer to Steve. “I- I like your voice now. I mean, I liked it before, but now it sounds like the voice matches the words.” Bucky examined him. “Can I- can I see?” He gestured vaguely to Steve. Steve stood up, confused, and slowly took his shirt off. Bucky breathed him in. He looked up at Steve’s face (he would never get used to having to look _up_ at Steve) with inquisitive eyes. Steve nodded, and Bucky raised his right hand and settled it on top of Steve’s left pec.

“It’s like… It’s like I’m seeing you for the first time. Not some poor kid in my clothes, but _you_.” Bucky circled his right hand onto Steve’s bicep and couldn’t help but squeeze, making Steve smile the same smile he’d had in tenth grade. Bucky’s left hand reached onto his abs, making sure to feel each crevice, each tendon beneath the skin. He lifted his hands off Steve just barely and circled around to see his back, rolling and dipping like the ocean in a storm. For the first time in his life, Bucky couldn’t see bones sticking up under Steve’s skin. Instead, there was solid, round muscle covering every area possible. Bucky circled back around to face Steve, who brought his hands up onto Bucky’s shoulders the way Bucky’s were already on his.

“Steve. We’ve been… something for a long time now. Up there, at Azzano, you were all I could think about, you were what kept me going. All those nights spent in our apartment in secret, I thought that was as good as it was ever gonna get. Looking at you now, is so… different though.” Steve’s heart dropped to his feet and he felt his mouth open, expecting rejection. “I still see your eyes storing everything to sketch later, and your nose is still crooked from all the times you didn’t know to leave a fight. And now I get to look up at you, and spread my arms just to touch both of your shoulders, and it’s like I don’t have to be scared for you anymore. I’m…. I-”

Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He cupped Bucky’s jaw with his right hand, placing his left on the small of his back, pressing their lips together like a jigsaw puzzle that had been missing a piece for years. Bucky grabbed Steve’s face, taking in the strong jaw, the Adam’s apple, relishing in tilting his head back to look up at him. Steve wrapped his strong arms completely around Bucky, squeezing and holding on for dear life, almost afraid he would hurt Bucky with the strength he didn’t quite know how to control yet. But Bucky let out the faintest moan and pressed himself further into Steve’s new stature, allowing himself to let down the guards he had built up in the previous months. Steve opened his eyes, and parted from Bucky, just far enough to see his whole face, still close enough to feel his breath on his chin.

“You are you breathtaking to me.” Steve cupped Bucky’s face again. “I have missed your face… so much. I’ve missed your lips and your voice and your cheeks and your eyebrows and every little thing about you and I’m never going to let you go again.”

Bucky blushed and gazed into Steve’s blue eyes. “I- I think everyone’s probably asleep by now. No one would notice…” Steve read his mind, and guided Bucky toward his cot. They sat down, not daring to break contact at all.

“Yknow, Bucky, the serum, it…” Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and gaze down sheepishly between his own legs.

“No shit.” Bucky grinned. “Oh my god. You lucky son of a bitch.” Steve guided Bucky’s hand toward his lap as they made excited eye contact, both new to the sensation of the mass in Steve’s pants. They pressed their lips together once again, never stopping kissing, even as they both undressed.

 

 

They were finally at home.


End file.
